<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>let the years we're here be kind by gingersprite</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25218133">let the years we're here be kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersprite/pseuds/gingersprite'>gingersprite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>jonmund's hippie commune [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(it's just important to me that you know that), (this isn't really necessary for the story), Coming Out, Cultural Differences, F/M, Family Dynamics, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Relationship Reveal, Rickon Stark Lives, Season 8 Compliant (mostly), Secret Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, jonmund's hippie commune, unholy mix of book and show canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:53:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25218133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersprite/pseuds/gingersprite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since King's Landing and things have changed, especially between Jon and Tormund; now all that's left is for Jon to tell his family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow &amp; Sansa Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark, Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>jonmund's hippie commune [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let the years we're here be kind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louhetar/gifts">Louhetar</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/partialconstellations/gifts">partialconstellations</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was loosely inspired by Louhetar's amazing art, she turned my shitpost into something <a href="https://louhetar.tumblr.com/post/622757748499791872/my-heart-melted-painting-this-based-on">truly gorgeous</a>, so here's a little something in return!</p><p>Special thanks also to Angelica for letting me word vomit about jonmund's life at the wall and their hippie commune!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nuncle!” a little voice called. Jon’s face broke into a wide grin and he urged his horse forward so he drew up to the North Gate ahead of the rest of his party. He smoothly dismounted and crouched in the light snowfall, pulling his nephew into an embrace. At three years old, little Robb still had plenty of baby fat about him, though he’d begun to come into his features. With his auburn curls and high cheekbones he was the spitting image of his namesake, though his eyes were a startling sea-green. Jon still wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to seeing Theon Greyjoy’s eyes in his lost brother’s face.</p><p>“I miss you, Uncle Jon!” Robb squealed right in Jon’s ear; he also immediately managed to get Jon’s loose curls knotted his chubby toddler fists. Jon tried not to flinch but was unsuccessful, if Tormund’s stifled guffaws were anything to go by.</p><p>“The moment the herald spotted your approach, he insisted we all come out to meet you,” Sansa explained. Jon looked up at her, a bit embarrassed at having ignored his sister in favor of her toddler, but her gentle smile told him she wasn’t at all offended. Robb was a delightful child to be around, and she could hardly fault her siblings for doting on the few family they had left.</p><p>Hoisting Robb onto his hip as he stood, Jon was sure to make the properly dramatic grunts and exclamations about the boy’s impressive growth- Robb clapped his hands in delight at the show, always thrilled with his uncle’s praise. Jon wrapped his sister in a one-armed hug, taking care to be gentle now that the swell of her second babe had become apparent through her furs; Sansa huffed a little at this and kissed his cheek, despite his beard probably being in desperate need of some proper grooming.</p><p>“You seem thinner, have you been eating enough?” Sansa asked, drawing back and scrutinizing him. “And how are things at the Wall, what is the status-”</p><p>“All in good time, Sans,” Jon said. “We have a full month to discuss everything, preferably in a warm solar!” He gave an exaggerated shiver and Sansa rolled her eyes, but acquiesced when she saw the group of tired and worn people behind him.</p><p>At her side, Theon cast him a strained though not unfriendly smile, keeping his eyes trained on little Robb. Jon tried not to take it personally, as he knew how protective his sister’s husband was over their son. It had actually gone a long way in improving their frayed relationship; he would probably never like Theon much but he certainly respected him, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. When Jon offered his arm in the ironborn way of greeting, Theon didn’t hesitate to take it.</p><p>Silent as always, Ghost padded over to where Pearl sat daintily at Sansa’s feet. The wolfdog looked small beside a full-blooded direwolf, despite standing several hands taller than their sister-species. Robb giggled as he watched the wolves snuffle each other curiously, before noticing the gaggle of free folk behind him.</p><p>“Nuncle, nu-u-uncle,” Robb babbled excitedly, “you bringed friends!”</p><p>“I certainly did, little wolf,” said Jon, and he waved the party over. Those who had made the journey previously moved to join him without delay, while those who had never been this far beyond the Wall were far more reluctant. Next to him, Tormund shuffled and cleared his throat awkwardly; despite being several inches taller than Sansa and far broader, he always seemed to shrink some in her presence.</p><p>“I appreciate your hospitality, Wolf Queen, though I won’t be kneeling to ye like a Southron,” he declared loudly, more for the benefit of the members of their party; he hid it well to most people, but Tormund had long ago decided that Sansa was the most fearsome of the Stark siblings, and refused to let anything Jon said sway his mind.</p><p>Sansa dipped her head, the sort of gracious nod she would give to a fellow noble or a visiting dignitary, saying, “I would never ask it of you, as an honored guest and friend to my kin.”</p><p><em>‘Friend.’</em> Jon tried not to let Robb feel how he froze up at that. He knew Sansa didn’t mean anything by it; how could she, when he’d yet to tell her the truth about his relationship with Tormund? </p><p>In the five years since his self-imposed exile, Castle Black had been transformed into an outpost where the sick and crippled could gain respite, and the scattered refugees from the Others’ destruction could regroup. Where the Watch had once been soldiers, they were now caretakers of the vulnerable. After the massacre at King’s Landing, Jon had wanted nothing more than to live the rest of his miserable life trying to somehow make up for the atrocities he’d been party to. But he hadn’t been prepared for the way the surviving free folk turned to him for leadership, and he certainly hadn’t counted on Tormund’s steadfast support.</p><p>The change in their relationship had occurred so gradually it was only in looking back that Jon saw it for the courtship it had been. Northern legal canon didn’t expressly prohibit relations between men but it didn’t encourage them either, so Jon had never let himself consider it; hells, he’d pledged himself to celibacy at sixteen years old, so clearly there were plenty of things he hadn’t thought about. </p><p>After a bit, though, he’d managed to work through his conflicted feelings, and he could honestly say that he never felt more at peace than in his Castle Black chambers, curled up with Tormund in their bed- extra-large, to accommodate Ghost- surrounded by the community he’d built. The castle’s regular denizens were all from disparate tribes, none of whom apparently had any objection, and so far none of the nomadic parties they’d hosted had had a problem.</p><p>Now all that was left was telling his family. But, that would have to wait until his people were settled; though they were all hardy folk, the trip from Castle Black to Winterfell was a long one and they needed rest. As much as Jon wanted to unburden himself to his family, his people’s needs would always come first.</p><p>Still settled at his hip, Robb gave a squeaky yawn and burrowed his cold nose into Jon’s neck. Jon handed him over to Theon somewhat reluctantly, finding that he already missed the little boy’s warm weight at his side.</p><p>“It’s past time for this little one to sleep,” Theon excused himself. </p><p>“Wanna show Uncle Jon m’ new toy,” Robb whined, even as he let out another jaw-splitting yawn. Theon gave a soft paternal tut at that, gazing at his son with a gentle smile. </p><p>“There’ll be plenty of time in the morning for that.”</p><p>Sansa gave her husband and son each a light kiss as they passed, before waving her visitors through the Gate. Soon a dozen castle staff were buzzing around to help the small party; Ghost even let one of the stable boys give his head a tentative pat, having gotten used to the children at the Wall. Jon offered Sansa his arm- which she took with a small laugh- and they made their way through the courtyard, their wolves trailing behind. Despite having been rather distant when they were children, the work they’d done together on rebuilding Castle Black had brought them closer; and he utterly adored his nephew, and would surely feel the same about the new baby.</p><p>As they walked, Sansa told him about the preparations that had been made for his arrival; despite that he’d made this journey biannually for the past five years, she always did this. He let his mind drift, lulled by the crisp tones of his sister’s voice. </p><p>“After our guests are settled in their rooms they’re welcome to sup in the hall, or eat in their rooms should they wish. The stable hands have been instructed to take care with all of the tack, I know some of your people are quite particular about that. You must also tell me about your party, I definitely saw some new faces! Jeyne’s had your usual room made up for you, and we’ve found a room nearby that I think Tormund will like.”</p><p>Again, Jon tried not to let his discomfort show; Sansa couldn’t have known that Jon always slept better with Tormund’s arms around him. He reminded himself that this was why Tormund had come with him rather than stay at the Wall like he usually did when Jon made these trips: as anxious as the thought made him, it was time for him to be open with his family. </p><p>Jon just hadn’t yet figured out <em>how</em> to do that.</p><p>Soon enough they reached his old chambers, and the siblings bade each other goodnight; and then Jon was alone, looking over his old rooms. They’d had to be refurnished after the fire, so there was nothing left from when he was a boy, but as he looked around Jon could almost see the shade of his boyhood self. The bed was against a different wall than it had been, and there was a sturdy new desk and set of drawers, just where his old ones had sat; he’d sat there to scratch out his order to Mikken for Arya’s sword, his allowance neatly counted out. It all felt a lifetime ago.</p><p>Ghost made himself comfortable in front of the hearth while Jon sorted out his pack. He’d resigned himself to a lonely bed for the night when Tormund appeared, juggling two bowls of thick stew and an extra large hunk of bread to share. Jon felt his chest clench up at his lover’s thoughtfulness, even as a treacherous part of him worried over if anyone saw Tormund enter.</p><p>“Relax, little crow,” Tormund crooned, setting down the food so he could take Jon’s face in his large hands. “I still don’t understand your southern sensibilities, but I’m sure no one saw.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Jon murmured. Shame rose, bitter on his tongue. “I’ll tell them tomorrow, I promise.”</p><p>Tormund looked him over, his blue eyes somber. “It’s alright, if you’ve changed your mind. I’m not gonna force ye if you’re not ready.” And Jon knew that, knew it deep in his bones that Tormund would never pressure him to do something he didn’t want to do; usually Jon loved him for it, but now it only added to the guilt he felt.</p><p>“No, I’m ready. Or, ready as I’ll ever be,” he amended. “You’ve been patient long enough, and I owe it to us both. Besides, you brought that big thing all this way, and I don’t relish lugging it back.” This last part was said teasingly, mostly: Tormund had insisted on procuring a truly ridiculous ‘dowry’ after Jon had explained the concept to him.</p><p>“I told you, I’m doing this thing right. I won’t give your witch sister any reason to curse me!” Jon did his best not to roll his eyes at the old argument, with minimal success. “Your people buy their mates, barbaric though it is, so that’s what I’ll do. ‘s not like I didn’t already steal you.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>you</em> stole me?” Jon teased, moving in closer, his hands slipping to Tormund’s belt.</p><p>“Aye, that I did. Stole you right out from under all those southern gits.”</p><p>“Ever think maybe I let you steal me?” At that, Tormund closed what little gap remained between them and their lips met in a searing kiss.</p><p>“Little crow,” Tormund gasped when they parted. “I’m counting on it.”</p><p>Jon smirked and pulled him back in; perhaps it was time he made some new memories in this room.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><p>But when the morning came, Jon found the anxiety from the previous night had made a permanent home in his stomach. At first he thought to get it over with right away, but during breakfast in the great hall seemed neither the time nor the place. Then, when they poured over ledgers and talked preparations for the next few months, he actually found himself so engrossed in the work that everything else slipped away. Thankfully he and Tormund hadn’t been sat next to one another, otherwise he was likely to fall back into the casual affectionate touches he’d grown used to sharing.</p><p>Soon it was time to break for lunch, and Jon still hadn’t found the right moment. When Robb showed up and begged him to come play, Jon was helpless to resist; he even managed to rope Tormund in, because not even hardened wildling warriors were immune to the little boy’s charms. Sansa watched nearby while they played in the courtyard, Theon checking in every now and then, like the mother-hen he was.</p><p>While Robb was distracted with ordering Tormund to do this and that with his wooden soldiers, Jon slipped away to catch his breath. Sansa dusted some lingering snowflakes from the seat next to her and gestured for him to join her.</p><p>“I’d forgotten how much energy a child his age can have,” Jon commented. Sansa’s lip twisted wryly at that.</p><p>“I’m just glad he’s making you play with him now, these days I'm far too tired. He absolutely adores you, you know.”</p><p>“The feeling is certainly mutual,” he replied, watching Tormund pretend to misunderstand how Robb wanted him to play with the toys, then reacting dramatically when he was corrected. Eventually he let out a growl and made a play for Robb’s tummy with tickling fingers. It had been many years since Munda and Gyda were young enough to play like this, but clearly Tormund hadn’t forgotten. Even when he scooped Robb up and pretended to nibble his toes, there was an unmistakable gentleness.</p><p>The back of his neck prickled, and Jon turned his head to find himself again under Sansa’s scrutinizing gaze. “I meant what I said, yesterday. You seem peaked. Are you sure you’re eating enough?”</p><p>“I’m perfectly fine,” he assured her. Given that a large portion of Castle Black’s residents were elderly and disabled, they occasionally had to get creative. Farming was still new to most of his people, but they’d built up good enough relations with the local townsfolk who were willing to trade, and they’d had some success with trapping smaller game; if necessary, either he or Tormund could always lead a fairly successful hunting party, small though it may be. “Though I should probably be the one nagging you about your health. How are you faring this time around?”</p><p>Sansa gave his arm a teasing swat. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid! The sickness seems better, though perhaps I’m just better at managing it. I swear, Robb is even more excited than Theon and me!”</p><p>“Has he accepted yet that he won’t be able to play with a baby the way he would an age-mate?”</p><p>“Of course not,” she said with a laugh. “Remember how Arya was with Rickon? He was the only ‘doll’ she ever willingly played with!” Arya had been immediately enamored with their youngest brother from the moment he was born; it made Jon laugh to imagine her trying to carry Rickon the way she had as a child, now that he was over six foot.</p><p>“It’ll be good for Robb to have a sibling,” Jon commented. “Someone to look out for, and confide in.”</p><p>A touch of melancholy crept into Sansa’s expression, though she still smiled as she watched her son giggle and shake snow from his curls. Her gloved hand rested delicately on the crest of her belly, thumb gently rubbing the swell. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Arya, and Bran and Rickon. Even when we’re separated, sometimes I swear I can feel you all beside me.”</p><p>“The pack survives,” Jon murmured, that old phrase their father had said. <em>Their</em> father, because Eddard Stark would always be his father, blood be damned. It might have taken a while to come to terms with, but he knew that now.</p><p>An odd sort of contentedness covered the courtyard like new-fallen snow, and as he watched his lover playing so sweetly with his young nephew, the words he’d been agonizing over suddenly flowed free. “I need to tell you something. Tormund and I, we’re together. Um, that is, as lovers.”</p><p>Sansa’s eyes widened and she looked back and forth between the two men in a manner which would otherwise be comical, if Jon’s heart weren’t currently trying to climb up his throat. On instinct he started to move away, but Sansa’s hand shot out, catching his and holding firm.</p><p>“It’s alright, I’m just surprised.” Her voice was soothing, like she were talking to Robb. “Though, now that I think on it, it seems rather obvious. How long?”</p><p>“Ah, a while now,” he admitted. “It was a slow build.”</p><p>Sansa bit at her lip hesitantly. “Were you worried to tell me, just now?”</p><p>“Some. I didn’t know how you’d react.”</p><p>“Are you happy with him? Does he treat you well?” she asked seriously.</p><p>Immediately, he said, “yes. I couldn’t imagine a life without him. He’s everything to me.” The concerned look on her face evaporated like clouds, leaving behind a smile.</p><p>“I’m so glad for you, Jon. All we wanted was for you to find your peace.” </p><p>The terrible knot in his gut finally loosened and Jon let out a watery sigh of relief; Sansa pulled him into a hug, and they both pretended he didn’t dry his damp eyes on her cloak.</p><p>“You know, I’ve always been rather fond of Tormund,” she said when they broke apart. </p><p>Jon chuckled. “He’ll be glad to hear it, though you still must let him give you his present.”</p><p>“Present?”</p><p>“He, ah, he wanted to make sure he followed our customs when asking for my hand. Sort of a bride price.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“A polar bear.”</p><p>Sansa gaped at him. “You jest!”</p><p>“Well, just the pelt,” he amended, though it seemed an understatement. The bear had been eight feet nose to rear, the sort of catch most trophy hunters could only dream of. Tormund had taken great care when preparing it, even enlisting the help of several other experienced tanners to ensure that the final product was of the best quality. Jon tried to pretend he didn't find that somewhat arousing. “And the claws, but he saved those more for Arya.”</p><p>“Does he expect me to do anything with it?” Sansa asked.</p><p>“Whatever you wish. Put it on your bed, or use it for a dress,” he suggested.</p><p>“Maybe I’ll make it into a wedding cape for you,” she said slyly. Jon wrinkled his nose at the suggestion; he tried to picture it, but everything he imagined made it look like he was wearing Ghost.</p><p>“Alright, whatever you wish <em>except</em> that.”</p><p>Their laughter seemed to catch Robb’s attention, and he promptly abandoned whatever game he was in the middle of to race to their sides. He raised his arms to Jon imperiously, demanding to be picked up; it was probably bad form to go along with it, but Jon figured it was only right he spoil his nephew. Tormund cast a glance between the two siblings, the question clear on his face. Jon’s beaming smile was answer enough, and Tormund broke into a wide grin, wrapping an arm around his waist in a chaste but unmistakable way.</p><p>“Nuncle, did you an’ Tormund <em>really</em> climb the whole Wall?” the little boy interrogated.</p><p>Sansa’s voice was gentle but firm. “Robb, it looks like your uncles could use a rest. I’m sure they’ll tell you the story later if you ask nicely.”</p><p><em>‘Uncles, plural,’</em> Jon thought elatedly. He liked the sound of that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from "North", by Sleeping At Last.</p><p>You can find me on tumblr at <a href="gingersprites.tumblr.com">gingersprites</a>, hit me up there for more of my bullshit.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>